


How To Save A Life

by TheCourseInLatin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Also Maybe., And Eliza sets things on fire, Eventual Jamiliza, F/M, I follow the musical as best I can, In the 1700s, In which Alex stops time, It get's better, Jamiliza, Jamliza, Jefferson gets nothin, Jefferson is Done, M/M, Maybe. - Freeform, Multi, My first time posting a fic on ao3, SO, Superhero Au!, Superpowers, Will it be because he never shuts up?, Will one of them be Alexander's?, Will there be death?, alrighty, and then it gets worse again so there's that, at least in the beginning, basically everyone - Freeform, but seriously, but yeah, don't hate me, figured it was time i started to contribute to the small portion of us, first chapter is kinda angsty?, i think, no smut!, now that i think about it this is more of a superpowers than superhero fic, that ship jamiliza, this is going to be fun, this is kind of exciting!, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCourseInLatin/pseuds/TheCourseInLatin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of twelve, Alexander Hamilton discovered he could stop time.</p>
<p>Three days later, he learned how to start it again.</p>
<p>(Superpower AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Between the lines of fear and blame

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my first time posting on ao3, which is super exciting! Anyways, superhero AU. This is only sort of an prolougey sort of thing, so in the next chapter you'll begin to meet the others, and I'll put who has which powers in the notes. 
> 
> Title and chapter titles are from the song how to save a life by the fray.
> 
> Jamiliza is what I live, breathe and die for, so it was about time i actually contributed a bit to it, eh? This fic is dedicated to the brilliant Let-me-speak, although i have no idea how to tag her.
> 
> And to those who can't tell aftert reading this, I love commas.
> 
> So, enjoy, and comment!

At the age of twelve, Alexander Hamilton discovered he had the ability to stop time.

 

Three days later, he discovered how to start it again.

 

It began with a cough. Nothing to worry about, not yet, at least.

His mother was leaning against the counter, catching her breath. The sound was so small, he could easily ignore it. He could easily return to his reading. But then there was another cough, and another, and then came the fever. Alex knew, of course he knew, that her chance of survival was abysmal. They where poor, they where outcasts. All he could do was pray, and hope.

Then Alex got sick, and his mother got sicker.

Days passed without meaning or count, only the stench in the air, their mingling of breaths, and the changing of light.

He doesn't remember how it began. Why he suddenly began fighting, but he did. Moving through his own mind was like pushing through underbrush, stumbling forward half blind. It was so hard, and he was so tired, and some part of him begged to stop, but the other was following that panicked _Alex, Alex, Alex-_

He was being pushed back at every step, and it hurt, it hurt so bad, but that voice. He had to find that voice. He had to find who ever waited on the other side.

It kept him moving, the steady repeat of his name, until his heart beat in the same pattern, and his feet hit the ground to each call. HIs own mind might have been the one replaying it over and over and over, but someone had said it first. Someone had said it first, and that someone needed him.

There was no air in his lungs, no more power behind his step, and he stumbled, faltered, and fell. Everything was fighting him, and he was fighting everything.

_Alex, Alex, Alex-_

Finally, finally, he broke free, and with furious want, he pushed his eyes open, blinking against the sharp light. Without really thinking, he moved closer to the other body beside him, the one that must have said his name, and he looked.

His mother was pale. Horribly so, paler than the white clouds that lazily drifted across the sky, paler than the white sand covering the beaches where he lived. Her cheeks where flushed, the only color left on her. Black hair was plastered to her forehead, soaked with sweat.

_She is dying_ , he dimly thought. Alexander didn't know how he knew, but he did. She was dying, and there was nothing Alex could do to save her. Nothing but look. At least she wouldn't be dying alone. But if she died first, he would. Alexander would die alone, beside the corpse of his mother.

Oh, God.

He closed his eyes, if only for a moment, but when he heard her move next to him, he opened them again.

With what must have been the last of her strength, she turned towards him, eyes clear. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something. Maybe she was.

But then her gaze unfocused, and his mother drew one last pleading breath.

As her heart stopped, Alex was sure his own must have, too.

For moments, hours, eons and days, Alexander Hamilton became nothing more than one long, anguished, pained, and grief stricken shriek.

He didn't think to call for help. He didn't think to close his mother's eyes.

He could only scream, and when his voice failed him and he became broken and breathless sobs.

Oh, God.

It all happened far too fast. Or far too slow. One moment, he was stuck in a fever dream, to caught by his own mind to know the world around him. The next? The next, there wasn't a world. At least, not for him. Not for Alexander. Not when his mother-

Oh, God. His mother.

He was twelve, he was a bastard, and now, he was an orphan.

His _Mother_. _His_ Mother.

There wasn't air in his lungs to scream with, there weren't tears to cry with, there weren't thoughts to form. There was only silence, silence, and the world seemed so utterly still.

All he could do was stare, eyes as unfocused as his mother's.

It took a day, maybe more, time was hard to tell, before the illness began to fade enough for him to regain some semblance of control. It took a few hours after that, for him to notice the world around him.

No birds passing over the horizon, no trees swaying in the wind. No sun moving across the sky, no change of light. Only the same picture outside, hour after hour. At first, Alex was sure it was a fever dream. It had to be. The only other explanation-

No. He couldn't be. There was no way. People like him, people like him didn't get abilities.

What had he done?

Panic, the ugly, clawing kind that screamed at him until his body froze and he couldn't flee, filled every part of him.

His mother was dead, and he had stopped time.

Oh, God.

_His mother._


	2. And he begins to raise his voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander arrives in New York and makes some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! So, I wasn't planning on taking two months, but hey, chap two is here, and late is better than never! Please leave a comment or a kudos!

The year was 1776, and Alexander Hamilton was standing at the bow of a ship headed for New York. The city steadily rose above the horizon, every wave broken against the hull bringing him closer. This was it. This was his chance, his shot. 

 

He'd make it, no matter what. This was a land to become a new man, someone not branded as a bastard orphan or a son of a whore and a Scotsman. In New York he would be a new man. He'd create a name for himself, a legacy. Never would he let someone brush him away as nothing again. 

 

So he watched, he waited, and with every rise and fall of the ship, hope grew in his chest. 

 

 

The first few days aboard the Northern Lady had left him weak and unstable. He had barely kept his food down, but now he found something in the rocking of the boat to be soothing. It smoothed down some of his frazzled edges, and Alex wondered if he would miss it. 

 

Half of his time was spent pacing, the other writing or reading. The two books in his bag were worn to the threads, and he was fast running out of paper, but in five hours or so, none of that would matter. 

 

It wouldn't matter, because in five hours Alexander Hamilton would leave his past and that damned island with it's dead mothers, hurricanes and heartless things behind in the waters. He wouldn't forget, no, but he would move on. 

 

In five hours, Alexander Hamilton would walk down the gangway, and onto the harbor of New York. 

 

In five hours, Alexander Hamilton would be a new man. 

 

 

Within his first weeks in Manhattan, Alex discovered that he attracted powered people the way some attracted mosquitoes. Every person he greeted had that tell tale spark, the way they held themselves. 

 

It started with Aaron Burr. Aaron Burr, who Alex with some surprise discovered might very well be his first friend. Aaron Burr, with his annoying dodging of questions, his insistent urging to wait, his way of abusing his powers, his complete lack of opinions. 

 

It all came down to that, in all honesty. Opinions. 

 

Alexander was bursting with them. Ripping at the seams, all of it forcing its way out into the light. Every thought demanded attention, every word demanded to be said. He spoke, he learned, he grew, he debated, he wrote, and every single moment he demanded more, more, more. There was something inside him, something he would could never be sated, never satisfied. 

 

Not when there was so much left to do. 

 

Luckily, he had all the time in the world. 

 

 

Next, he met the revolutionaries. It was happenstance, but then, everything seemed to be in his life nowadays. He hadn't meant to speak up, but once the words were out, he couldn't stop. He spoke loud, he spoke opinionated, and to his utter surprise, they agreed with him. Not only that, they egged him on, encouraged him, until every thought that grew in his mind came faster than the other. He spoke like his life depended on it. 

 

He was here, and he was not going to be quiet now. 

 

 

There was Lafayette, words tinged by an accent that only made his chest ache a little when he was reminded of home. His hair was wild, and his heart was wilder. The French aristocrat disregarded any norm, and changed his gender the way some changed clothes. It was startling the first few times, but Alex found himself growing to like the swapping from he to she to they. He spoke like wildfire, bright, burning, fast, and Alex found a companion, someone to share the foreignness of the New World with. 

 

Next, there was Hercules Mulligan, with a brilliant, if filthy, mind. The tailor's apprentice slash revolutionary solider took Alexander in without a second thought. He was brave, he was unapologetic, and Alex instantly took a liking to him. Mulligan had his own power of course, but it took some time to get him to disclose what it was. To say that Alexander was mildly surprised at it was a bit of an understatement, but it did also carry some explanation to why he always seemed to know everything about everyone. It wasn't as grand as Burr's invisibility, nor Alex' way with time, but superhearing came with its own perks. 

 

And, then of course, there was Laurens. He might very well have been the best friend Alexander ever had. He was golden hearted, he was loyal, he was true. He fought for those who couldn't fight for themselves, and he spoke out when he saw injustice. Maybe it was because of his power, or maybe he had his power to help his cause. Nonetheless, his ability to see the good and bad in other's heart was one Laurens treasured like nothing else. 

 

 

They fought together, they drank together, they fought together. Every day was a test of their comradery and bravery, but somehow they made it through every battle. 

 

With them at his back, he allowed himself to go greater, wilder, more daring in every fight. He stole cannons, he planned sneak attacks. 

 

 

His nerves almost got the best of him, but then he reminded himself that no matter what happened, this was not his end. So, with another deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered the General’s office. 

 

His heart beat in his chest, urging him again and again to not give up, not throw away his shot. No matter what. He will not throw away his shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there where any mistakes, I'm sorry, I only lightly skimmed over the text at the end! I hope you all liked it! Next chapter we meet the lovely Eliza, fire lady of my heart.
> 
>  
> 
> Explanations of their powers!
> 
> Aaron Burr has invisibilty, and I'm not even gonna bother explaining why.
> 
> Laff can change his gender, because my friend(@let-me-ski on tumblr.com, hit her up! She's awesome!) once told me that in order to get to America he disguised himself as a woman.
> 
> Mulligan has great hearing, since he was a spy and listening in on conversations was basically his job.
> 
> Laurens can read what's in other people's hearts, the good and bad, because I felt like it suits him well and because he wanted to start the first all-black legion(?) in a time where black people were widly thought to be less. But if you can see what's in someones hearts, you can easily disprove that so...
> 
> Whatever
> 
> Wash is a siren, and I'm gonna explain that in detail later.
> 
>  
> 
> The Northern Lady, Alex' boat, was just a name I made up. A small nod to my firend, another Northern Lady.


	3. Granting Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander makes a new friend, looses two(not really) and Eliza enters the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHHA SO I'M BACK
> 
> Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Life happened?
> 
> ANyways, new chapter!! That's good right?

When he laid eyes on Elizabeth Schuyler for the first time, a small part of that aching hole in his chest filled out. He had no idea if he would ever be satisfied, but he knew without a doubt, that if anyone could ever do it, it would be Eliza.   

Kind eyes, beautiful smile. She was like nothing else. The eye of his hurricane, the calm center of the storm. With her, the anxiousness soothed, and his mind wound down. With her he could rage on in complete chaos, or he could just lie in complete silence, exhaustion wearing him down, and she accepted both of his bad sides without batting an eyelash.  

When he looked into her eyes, not even the sky was a limit.  

 

They had met at a winter's ball. It was hot, and the candles littering the room cast it all in a golden glow.  

She was everything he could have ever wanted, and the day he married her was the happiest of his life. 

 

It started out almost like some sort of bet. With both Aaron and John egging him on, and with a few glasses of wine already in his system, his eyes had traveled the room like a stray dog, hungry for something more. When Burr pointed out the Schuyler sisters to him, the  epitome of grace and power, he knew he wanted to try his hand. 

Yet, somehow instead of finding some easy match in Angelica, he found an equal. He found wit and intelligence and spirit, a lit match waiting to set the world aflame. 

Peggy was the sibling he never had, both sides of it. She was sweet and energetic and demanding and willful and there was never an end to her, not in any way.  

Then, of course, there was Eliza. 

Elizabeth Schuyler. A living work of art, a universe hidden in her eyes, for those who dared look close enough. Light and passion and love. 

It was Angelica who introduced him, and from there, there was nothing he could do but follow her every move. He would do anything, say anything,  _be_ anything, if she so much as asked. 

All it had taken was a small curtsy, a shy smile and one look into her glittering eyes, and he was so gone. 

"Elizabeth Schuyler. It's a pleasure to meet you." Her voice,  _oh_ , her voice.  

"Schuyler?" Was all he managed to stutter out, but Angelica, the angel she was, saved him from completely embarrassing himself. "My sister." 

"Thank you for your service." 

He had to think of something, anything, to say. So, of course, when he couldn't think of anything in the time that was normal for the average conversation, Alexander Hamilton froze time. 

And then, subsequently, spent thirty minutes debating what on earth to say. Well, twenty-five, he spent five arranging Laurens and Burr into positions that would wind up with them tripping and spilling their drink the moment he released his grip on time. Though he was careful not to touch them, just in case. 

But yes, twenty-five minutes of pacing, throwing down a drink or two to settle his nerves, trying and failing to think of anything clever, anything worth saying.  

"Thank you for yours- no, that doesn't even make sense." He scratched the back of his head, casting a glance back at Eliza, frozen with an intent smile. Still waiting on his response, unwittingly or not. What had she said to him?  _Thank you for your service._  "Seeing you makes it worth it?" 

_Oh,_ oh, he might be onto something with that. He just had to refine it, somehow.  

Two minutes later, ha had, and thirty seconds later, he was ready. With an ease that was practiced by now, he calmed, slowed his breathing, and imagined the world coming to life around him, little by little. A candle flickering, a hand moving, Eliza drawing a breath, and gently enough, time started flowing again. 

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it." He said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles, just as he heard the jostle and crash of Laurens and Burr colliding beautifully with each other. 

He allowed himself a momentary glance towards his friends, grinning just a little at the sight, before moving to straighten himself. On his way up, he caught Eliza's eyes, clever fire dancing in them. "You just froze time, didn't you?" 

His shock was only momentarily, before it was swiftly replaced by curiosity and newfound respect. She wasn't only graceful and charming, she was smart, too. "How did you know?" 

"You, as well as your friends over there, moved in a matter of seconds." The smile she gave him was as clever as the cat that got away with the milk was, and it made him that much more gone for her. "What, you didn't think I'd notice, mr...?" 

"Hamilton." It took her sister only moments to excuse herself, and when she did, Alex offered Eliza his arm, and she took it, sending fire racing up his skin where they touched. 

"A dance?" She smiled, and Alexander found himself thinking that if he could be the reason for that smile for the rest of his life, then he might just be satisfied with that. "And don't worry, Hamilton. I won't mention how you literally needed to freeze time to find something to say to me." 

 

With Eliza, not even the sky was the limit, and the day they got married was the happiest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on tumblr and strike up a chat! @pjopaulie


End file.
